Serena

“Yes, yes, of course, but what can this mean? What is going on in our sleepy little hamlet, Freddy? This man was murdered,” Serena whispered as she turned to take another look. She shuddered. “Who was that rider? He must be the murderer.”

“Aye, but I don’t think it was the little stout fellow. The rider was taller, more put together. He must be the killer. We heard the shot …”

“Come on, Freddy … we better hurry,” Serena said, remounting her horse.

“Aye, aye,” agreed Freddy, excited all over again. “Can you imagine? M’mother wanted me to go back to school—ha!”

* * *

Daniel Pendleton stared as he consulted the mantle-shelf clock in the parlor of the inn. He paced and went over what he now knew. It was not good. In addition to this, he was irritated.

He was not used to being kept waiting—though in truth, he had made no assignation with his nephew. He simply thought the lad would have returned by now. He was hungry and already heartily disgusted with himself.

Why had he allowed his sister to draw him into this situation? He frowned and answered himself. Because a hussy of a woman means to take Freddy to the altar before his time, that’s why!

He frowned over this problem. She wasn’t quite a hussy though, was she? A beauty, with a respectable name and a lengthy line of ancestors. However, she was not for Freddy, who was still a boy, just a boy, and should return to Oxford.

His lordship made his way to the private parlor he had reserved and took up a chair at the table. The hour wanted ten minutes to seven, and he was going to have his dinner.

An attractive serving girl came in at once with a basket of freshly baked bread. She laid this on the prettily arranged table, advised his lordship that dinner would follow directly, and gave him an inviting smile.

He smiled absently back at her, and although he tore a piece of bread off from the large loaf, he set it back down and got to his feet to pace. Thus he was standing by the small hearth, his fists at his back, when his nephew came bursting through the doorway.

“Uncle! We have had the most famous afternoon,” Freddy exclaimed, his grievance with his uncle evidently temporarily set aside.

“Have you?” his uncle returned, wisely waiting for more.

“Certes, yes … that is what delayed me.” He spotted the fresh bread and asked with fervor, “Is that cornbread?” Without waiting for a reply, he put a chunk to the test. “Zounds, but I am famished. You must know that with all the goings-on, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Sounds as though you have had some fun,” his uncle returned, grinning. He held Freddy in greater affection than he let on.

“Fun?” Freddy said in high glee, “Uncle, I don’t know when I have had such a rare kick-up. Zounds—we found a dead body!”

His lordship was taken aback but restrained himself from asking the chain of questions that came immediately to mind. Instead, he moderated his tone and asked, “A dead body, you say?”

“A dead body right smack there in the pine woods near Buckler’s Hard, and damn if we didn’t see the murderer making good his escape.”

Now was the time for clarification, of course, but again, Lord Pendleton restrained himself and asked, “We?”

“Serena and I were on our way home … well, that is I was escorting her home—”

“Home?” his lordship interrupted his nephew.

“Aye, well, to Moorely Grange, that is. It was a long day, for you must know we were with Sir Newton exercising his hounds early on. He was in the process of training some of the older pups, you see, when Warrior took off into the thicket, and what must the other fellows do but follow and one got lost and off we all went running amok … damn exciting good fun.”

“Ah, just so that I am clear, Miss Moorely was on this mad chase after the hounds …?”

“Oh yes, nothing holds back Serena. A right ’un, she is. She lost her hat but unlike most of her kind did not go on and on about it.”

“And what do you know, Freddy, about most of her kind?”

He frowned and stuck up his chin. “I know enough to know that.”

“Indeed, do go on,” his uncle said, more than a little interested at this point.

“Right, so there we were coming back from town … my horse lost a shoe, and that took a bit of a wait, and so I escorted Serena as she discharged some errands for her uncle, and then off we went to get home, both of us starving, when … boom … a gunshot! We knew something havey cavey was going on, but then, whoosh, out of the woods comes this fellow whose face was all wrapped up in dark woolens, and he was galloping like the devil himself was after him. Serena and I thought we should investigate.”

“Miss Moorely went with you to investigate? She did not remain behind?”